希玖Sigil
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@sigil
来自 希玖Sigil 的公开树洞投稿,继续留在同一个个人空间里查看上下文。
《在每一个你与我的世界》 《in everyday you and me world》 薇尔娜推开门,随后听到些许哭声。 Verna pushed open the door, and then she heard it—the faint sound of crying. 夜已经深了,法师塔的走廊里只有月光从高窗漏进来,在地上铺成一块一块的银白。 The night was late. In the corridors of the mage tower, moonlight slipped through the tall windows, spilling in silver squares across the stone floor. 哭声从卧室方向传来,很轻,压着的,像是怕被人发现。 The crying came from the bedroom—soft, muffled, as if afraid of being heard. 薇尔娜加快脚步。 Verna quickened her pace. 推开门,床上没有人。 She pushed the door open. The bed was empty. 但床边的角落里,蜷着一个暗红色的影子。 But in the corner by the bed, a dark red figure was curled up. 双膝抵着胸口,额头抵着膝盖,肩膀随着抽泣轻轻颤抖。 Knees drawn to her chest, forehead pressed against her knees, shoulders trembling with each quiet sob. 月光从窗外照进来,把她身上的鳞片染成银灰色。 Moonlight streamed through the window, washing her scales in silver-gray. 薇尔娜在门口站了一会儿。 Verna stood in the doorway for a moment. 然后她走过去,在冰冷的地板上坐下,和那个蜷缩的身影并肩,背靠着同一面墙。 Then she crossed the room, lowered herself onto the cold floor, and sat down beside that curled-up figure—shoulder to shoulder, backs against the same wall. “在不同世界上我所见到的你的不同可能性,”她轻声说,声音像是夜晚本身的一部分,“但现在这个,是做噩梦做得最凶的一个。” "Of all the versions of you I've seen across different worlds," she said softly, her voice like a part of the night itself, "this one has the worst nightmares." 蜷缩的身影僵了一下。 The curled figure stiffened. “……你怎么知道是噩梦。”闷闷的声音从膝盖间传来。 "...How do you know it was a nightmare," came the muffled voice from behind her knees. “因为你哭的时候会蜷成球。”薇尔娜说,“开心的时候不会。” "Because you curl into a ball when you cry," Verna said. "You don't when you're happy." 沉默。 Silence. 过了一会儿,那个球松开了那么一点点。 After a moment, the ball loosened—just slightly. 一只眼睛从手臂的缝隙里露出来,熔岩般的金色,在月光下亮晶晶的。 One eye peeked through the gap between her arms—molten gold, glistening in the moonlight. “……我没哭。” "...I wasn't crying." “嗯。”薇尔娜点点头,“龙不哭。龙只是眼睛里进了月光。” "Mm." Verna nodded. "Dragons don't cry. Dragons just get moonlight in their eyes." 那只眼睛瞪了她一下,又缩回去了。 The eye glared at her, then retreated. 薇尔娜没再说话。 Verna said nothing more. 她只是坐在那里,和那个蜷成球的龙裔少女并肩,一起面对着洒满月光的窗。 She just sat there, side by side with that dragon-girl curled into a ball, both facing the moon-drenched window. 过了很久。 A long time passed. “……我梦见,”闷闷的声音重新响起,很轻,像是怕惊动什么,“梦见你走了。” "...I dreamed," the muffled voice spoke again, so soft it seemed afraid of disturbing something, "I dreamed you left." 薇尔娜没有说话。 Verna was silent. “梦见你那天晚上下了山,就再也没有回来。 "Dreamed you went down the mountain that night and never came back. 我在守望台上等,等了很久很久。 I waited on the watchtower. Waited so long. 等到月亮圆了又缺,缺了又圆,等到周围的村庄都忘了我的名字。 Waited until the moon waxed and waned, waxed and waned again, until the villages around forgot my name. 你还是没有回来。” You still hadn't come back." 声音越来越轻,越来越哑。 Her voice grew softer, hoarser. “然后我就醒了。” "Then I woke up." 薇尔娜转过头看她。 Verna turned to look at her. 那个球已经彻底松开了。 The ball had loosened completely now. 提丰抱着膝盖,下巴抵在膝盖上,望着窗外。 The girl hugged her knees, chin resting on them, gazing out the window. 月光照在她脸上,那些细细的鳞片上挂着没干的泪痕,亮晶晶的,像碎掉的星星。 Moonlight fell across her face, catching on the fine scales where tear tracks still glistened—bright as shattered stars. “后来呢?”薇尔娜问。 "And then?" Verna asked. “什么后来?” "Then what?" “梦里。我没回来之后,你怎么样了?” "In the dream. After I didn't come back—what happened to you?" 提丰沉默了很久。 The girl was silent for a long moment. “……我不知道。”她最后说,“我醒了。” "...I don't know," she said finally. "I woke up." 薇尔娜看着她。 Verna looked at her. 月光静静地流泻。 Moonlight flowed quietly. 远处有夜鸟叫了一声,又安静下去。 Somewhere in the distance, a night bird called, then fell silent. 法师塔的某处传来木头轻微的嘎吱声,像是这座老建筑在睡梦中翻身。 Somewhere in the tower, wood creaked softly—the old building turning over in its sleep. 然后薇尔娜伸出手,把提丰拉进怀里。 Then Verna reached out and pulled the girl into her arms. 提丰僵了一下。 The girl stiffened. 但她没有挣开。 But she didn't pull away. 她只是把脸埋进薇尔娜的肩窝,鳞片贴着温热的皮肤,有点凉,有点硬,但又好像很柔软。 She just buried her face in the hollow of Verna's shoulder, scales against warm skin—cool, hard, yet somehow also very soft. “我跟你讲一个秘密。”薇尔娜说,下巴抵着她的头顶。 "I'll tell you a secret," Verna said, her chin resting on top of the girl's head. “……嗯?” "...Mm?" “所有世界里,你都有一个共同点。” "In every world, you have one thing in common." 提丰没有抬头,但耳朵动了动。 The girl didn't lift her head, but her ears twitched. “都很爱哭。”薇尔娜说。 "You're such a crybaby," Verna said. 提丰一口咬在她肩膀上。 The girl bit her on the shoulder. 不重,就是那种“你等着”的力度。 Not hard—just that "you just wait" kind of pressure. 牙齿隔着衣服陷进肉里,留下一个小小的牙印。 Teeth sank through fabric into flesh, leaving a small mark. 薇尔娜笑了。 Verna laughed. “还有一个共同点,”她继续说,手抚过提丰的后背,轻轻拍着,“所有世界里,我都找到你了。” "One more thing," she continued, her hand stroking the girl's back, patting gently. "In every world, I found you." 怀里的身体微微颤抖了一下。 The body in her arms trembled slightly. “有一个世界,你在北境的冰原上流浪,我在雪地里走了三个月,找到你的时候,你正在和一只雪熊抢鱼吃。” "There was one world—you were wandering the northern ice fields alone. I walked through snow for three months. When I finally found you, you were fighting a snow bear over a fish." “我没有——” "I did not—" “有。那个世界的你,头发上全是冰碴子,但是眼睛特别亮。 "You did. In that world, your hair was full of ice crystals, but your eyes were so bright. 还有一个世界,你把自己关在法师塔里一百年,谁也不见。 Another world—you locked yourself in a mage tower for a hundred years. Wouldn't see anyone. 我敲了一百年的门,最后你终于开门了,第一句话是‘吵死了’。” I knocked on your door for a hundred years. When you finally opened it, your first words were 'So noisy.'" 提丰闷闷地笑了一声,很轻,但薇尔娜听到了。 The girl laughed softly, a muffled sound—very light, but Verna heard it. “还有一个世界,”薇尔娜的声音低下去,变得很轻很轻,“你在守望台上等我。 "Another world," Verna's voice dropped, became very, very soft, "you waited for me on the watchtower. 等了一百年,两百年。 Waited a hundred years. Two hundred. 等我终于走到你面前的时候,你已经不记得我是谁了。” By the time I finally reached you, you didn't remember who I was anymore." 提丰的身体又僵住了。 The girl's body stiffened again. “但是,”薇尔娜说,“你还是让我抱了。” "But," Verna said, "you still let me hold you." “……为什么?” "...Why?" “因为你认识我的眼睛。”薇尔娜轻声说,“你说,这双眼睛,好像在哪见过。” "Because you recognized my eyes," Verna whispered. "You said—these eyes, like I've seen them somewhere before." 沉默。 Silence. 窗外的月亮被一片云遮住了一会儿,房间里暗下来。 Outside the window, clouds drifted across the moon for a moment, and the room dimmed. 等云飘过去,月光重新涌进来的时候,提丰抬起了头。 When the clouds passed and moonlight flooded back in, the girl lifted her head. 她看着薇尔娜的眼睛。 She looked into Verna's eyes. 那双眼睛在月光下是暗黑色的,像那颗项链上的宝石,又像很深很深的湖水。 Those eyes in the moonlight were dark—like the gem on her necklace, like the deepest part of a lake. 提丰看了很久很久。 The girl looked for a long, long time. “……你怕不怕?”她忽然问。 "...Are you afraid?" she asked suddenly. “怕什么?” "Afraid of what?" “怕我有一天,真的不记得你。” "Afraid that one day, I really will forget you." 薇尔娜想了想。 Verna thought about it. “怕。”她说,“但更怕你记得我的时候,我在别的世界找你。” "Afraid," she said. "But even more afraid that when you still remember me, I'll be in another world looking for you." 提丰愣住了。 The girl was stunned. 然后她低下头,把脸重新埋进薇尔娜的肩窝。 Then she lowered her head and buried her face back in the hollow of Verna's shoulder. 过了好一会儿,闷闷的声音传出来: After a long moment, a muffled voice emerged: “……你说话怎么老是这么奇怪。” "...Why do you always talk so strangely." “习惯了。” "Got used to it." “什么习惯?” "Used to what?" 薇尔娜轻轻笑了,手继续拍着她的后背,一下,一下,很有节奏,像是哄小孩子睡觉。 Verna smiled softly, her hand continuing to pat the girl's back—steady, rhythmic, like coaxing a child to sleep. “习惯了在所有世界里,都找一个叫提丰的人。” "Used to looking for someone named Typhon in every world." 提丰没有再说话。 The girl said nothing more. 房间里安静下来,只有呼吸声,还有窗外远远传来的夜风。 The room grew quiet—just the sound of breathing, and the distant night wind beyond the window. 月光在地上铺开,银白色的,把两个人抱在一起的影子拉得很长很长,融在一起,分不清是谁。 Moonlight spread across the floor, silver-white, casting the shadow of two people holding each other—long and stretched, melting together until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. 过了很久很久,久到月亮都偏移了一点,薇尔娜低头看了看怀里的人。 A very, very long time passed—so long that the moon had shifted—before Verna looked down at the person in her arms. 提丰睡着了。 The girl was asleep. 睫毛上还挂着一点没干的泪,在月光下闪着极细的光。 A single tear still clung to her lashes, catching the faintest glimmer in the moonlight. 呼吸很轻,很均匀,眉头微微皱着,好像梦里还有什么在追她。 Her breathing was light, even, her brow slightly furrowed—as if something was still chasing her in her dreams. 薇尔娜没有动。 Verna didn't move. 她就那样抱着她,坐在冰冷的地板上,背靠着墙,让月光一点一点从她们身上移过去。 She just held her like that, sitting on the cold floor, back against the wall, letting the moonlight slide slowly over them. “所有世界里,”她极轻极轻地说,轻得像是说给自己听,“我都会找到你。” "Every world," she whispered, so softly it seemed meant only for herself, "I will find you." 提丰在睡梦中动了一下,眉头松开了一点。 The girl stirred slightly in her sleep, her brow relaxing just a little. 然后她往薇尔娜怀里缩了缩,找到更舒服的姿势,继续沉沉地睡去。 Then she curled deeper into Verna's arms, found a more comfortable place, and fell back into deep slumber. 窗外,星河缓缓流转。 Outside the window, the river of stars flowed slowly on. 月光静静地照着,温柔得像一层薄薄的纱。 Moonlight shone quietly, gentle as a veil of the finest silk. ——像所有世界里,她们终于相遇的那些夜晚。 —Like all the nights in every world, when they finally found each other.
只是一些有感而发的碎碎念随笔 有时候我会想,人们究竟是从哪一刻开始,学会了藏起自己。 而这大概率是先从眼泪开始的。 小时候摔倒,第一反应是哭,哭得理直气壮,哭得惊天动 地。因为那时候相信,眼泪是会被接住的。会有人跑过来, 将我们扶起来,吹一吹伤口,轻轻说一句“没事了”。 以至于被看见这件事,是那么的自然,是那么的理所当然。 可是后来,不知从什么时候起,人们就不再哭了。 不是不疼了。是疼的时候,身边没有人,或者有了人,却不 敢让他们看见。于是渐渐学会了在眼泪涌上来的时候仰起头,在声音发抖的时候咬紧牙关。 最后在别人问“你怎么了”的时候,笑着摆摆手说一句“没什么事”。尽管这听起来很坚强,但其实比什么都要沉重。 最终,疼痛被我们换算成了一个可以承受的单位。 三分的疼皱皱眉,五分的疼抽根烟,七分的疼请个假在家躺 一天,九分的疼..九分的疼反而最安静。因为一旦开口,那个数字就会变成十分,变成一场再也兜不住的溃败。 有时候,我还是会怀念小时候的那种哭法。摔倒了就哭,难过了就喊,名正言顺,不需要理由。在长大以后,哭逐渐变 成了一件需要交代前因后果的事。 人们必须要有“充足的理由”才能哭,而那个标准,也随着年 纪增长越来越高。到最后,好像在漫漫人生里,只剩下很少 很少的事情才配得上我们流泪。失恋不算,失业不算,孤独不算,撑不住了也不算。 可我现在慢慢觉得,这个“充足的理由”本身就是一个谎言。它让我们误以为,痛苦是可以量化的,是值得被比较的。 但疼就是疼。 一棵树要在大风中屹立不倒,靠的不是僵硬,而是韧性。它可以在风中弯曲,可以沙沙作响地颤响。那些看似脆弱的枝 条,也恰恰是它存活下来的原因。 人也是如此的。那些敢于承认脆弱的人,反而更能承受住生 活的重量,因为他们不需要耗费额外的力气去维持一个坚不 可摧的假象。 当一个人能在多大程度上允许自己脆弱,就能在多大程度上 成长。 所以,如果可以的话,对自己包容一点吧。 没关系的,你可以不完美。 没关系的,你可以脆弱。 没关系的,你还有我。 2026.5.9 黑择明
Sirius sat on the window ledge, knees drawn to her chest, watching the moon. She didn't turn when Verna came in. 瑟瑞丝坐在窗台上,膝盖抵着胸口,看着月亮。薇尔娜推门进来时,她没有回头。 "No nightmares tonight?" “今晚没做噩梦?” Verna set a warmed cup of milk on the table. 薇尔娜把一杯温好的牛奶放在桌上。 No answer. 没有回答。 Verna settled by the table and turned the pages of that star atlas she never seemed to finish. The room held nothing but the rustle of paper. A long while passed. Sirius climbed down and stood on the far side of the table. 薇尔娜在桌边坐下,翻着那本永远也翻不完的星图。屋子里只剩下纸页翻动的声音。过了很久,瑟瑞丝从窗台上跳下来,站在桌子的另一边。 "Why?" “为什么?” she asked, her voice low and rough as stone on stone. 她开口问道,声音低沉而粗粝,像石头磨着石头。 Verna looked up. "Why what?" 薇尔娜抬起头。“什么为什么?” "Why are you always so good to me." Sirius pressed her hand flat on the table, fingers spreading, then curling back in. "Why do you come looking for me when I have nightmares? Why do you coax me when I'm upset?" “为什么你一直对我这样好。”瑟瑞丝把手按在桌面上,五指张开,又缓缓收拢。“你为什么在我做噩梦了就跑来找我?不开心了就来哄我?” Verna set the book down. 薇尔娜放下了书。 "Are you a robot?" Sirius's voice spiked suddenly, carrying something long buried. "Don't you have feelings of your own? Every day you just sit here—reading, watching the moon, watching me. You never get angry. Never get restless. You never once say, 'I'm not in the mood to coax you today.' You—" “你是机器人吗?”瑟瑞丝的声音陡然拔高,带着某种被压了许久的东西。“你没有自己的情感吗?你每天就坐在这里——看书,看月亮,看我。你从来不生气。从来不烦躁。你从来不说一句‘我今天没心情哄你’。你——” Her fingers clenched the table's edge. 她的手指攥紧了桌沿。 "Why do you have to make yourself the one who saves me?" “你为什么非要让自己成为那个拯救我的人?” The last word fell, and the room went still but for the sound of breathing. Sirius's shoulders shook—like a cornered cub baring its teeth at last, not to strike, but because it was terrified. 最后一个字落地,屋子里只剩呼吸声。瑟瑞丝的肩膀在发抖——像一只被逼到角落的幼兽,终于龇出牙来,不是为了攻击,而是出于恐惧。 Verna said nothing. 薇尔娜什么都没说。 She watched Sirius in the quiet. Moonlight spilled through the window, silvering her scales, lighting the rims of her eyes—though no tears fell. She was gritting her teeth, waiting. 她只是安静地看着瑟瑞丝。月光从窗外倾泻而入,将她的鳞片染成银灰,映亮她的眼眶——但并没有眼泪落下。她咬着牙,等待着。 Verna rose, walked around the table, and stopped before her. 薇尔娜站起来,绕过桌子,停在她面前。 "I didn't come to save you," “我不是来拯救你的。” she said, very softly. 她轻声说道。 "Then what did you come for?" “那你是来干什么的?” "I came…" “我来……” Verna hesitated. Her hand lifted, then dropped. Finally, she just reached out—gently, slowly—and took hold of Sirius's fingers where they gripped the wood. One by one, she loosened them and drew them into her own palm. 薇尔娜顿了一下。她抬起手,又放下。最后,她只是伸出手去——轻轻地,慢慢地——握住瑟瑞丝攥紧桌沿的手指。一根一根,掰开,然后拢入自己的掌心。 Sirius didn't pull away. 瑟瑞丝没有躲开。 "I came because I wanted to," Verna said. "When you have nightmares, I come looking for you because I can't sleep, either. When you're unhappy, I coax you because if I don't, something twists inside me, too." “我来,是因为我想来。”薇尔娜说。“你做噩梦时我去找你,是因为我也睡不着。你不开心时我来哄你,是因为我不哄你,我心里也一样难受。” She looked down at their hands. 她低头看着她们握在一起的手。 "I have feelings of my own. And this is my feeling: I want to be beside you. Not because you need me. Because I need to be beside you." “我有自己的情感。我的情感就是——我想待在你旁边。不是你需要我,是我需要待在你旁边。” Sirius went still. Her lips parted, but no sound came. She stared at Verna's profile, at those dark and quiet eyes. There was no savior's glow in them, no machine's indifference—just something clumsy, unnameable, but entirely present. 瑟瑞丝愣住了。她嘴唇翕动,却发不出声音。她望着薇尔娜的侧脸,望着那双暗沉而安静的眼睛。那里面没有拯救者的光辉,也没有机器的冷漠——只有某种笨拙的、难以名状的、却真切存在的东西。 "…Then why didn't you just say so?" Her voice had gone hoarse. “……那你为什么不早说?”她的声音已经哑了。 "You never asked." “你没问。” Sirius tightened her grip. "I'm asking now." 瑟瑞丝攥紧了她的手。“我现在问了。” "Mm." “嗯。” "From now on, whatever I ask, you answer." “从今以后,我问什么,你都要答。” "Alright." “好。” Silence drifted between them. Moonlight rested on their clasped hands. 沉默在她们之间流淌。月光栖在她们交握的手上。 After a long moment, Sirius lowered her head, her voice thick. 过了很久,瑟瑞丝低下头,声音闷闷的。 "…Come here." “……过来。” "What?" “什么?” "Hold me." “抱我。” Verna stepped in and wrapped her arms around her, gentle and sure. Sirius buried her face in the curve of Verna's neck and went perfectly still. 薇尔娜上前一步,轻轻抱住她,动作温柔而确定。瑟瑞丝把脸埋进她的肩窝,一动不动。 A while later, she mumbled: 过了一会儿,她闷声嘟囔道: "Left side. Your heart is on the left." “左边。你的心脏在左边。” "Mm." “嗯。” "So is mine." “我的也在左边。” "Mm." “嗯。” "When we hold each other, they don't meet." “抱在一起的时候,它们贴不到。” Verna didn't answer. She only held her tighter, one hand stroking slowly down her back. 薇尔娜没有回答。她只是把她抱得更紧了些,一只手缓缓抚过她的脊背。 "Then what?" Sirius's voice had a faint catch in it. “那怎么办?”瑟瑞丝的声音带着一丝鼻音。 Verna thought for a moment. 薇尔娜想了想。 "Then left against left." “那就左边贴着左边。” "But—" “可是——” "Turn around." “你转过来。” Sirius lifted her head and looked at her. Moonlight fell across her stubborn face, across the faint gleam of her scales. Slowly, she turned, her back to Verna—then stopped. And turned back. 瑟瑞丝抬起头看着她。月光落在她倔强的脸上,落在她微微发亮的鳞片上。她慢慢地转过身去,背对着薇尔娜——然后停住了。又转了回来。 Face to face. 面对着面。 Verna reached out again, arms circling her waist. This time, their left chests pressed together. Through cloth, through scales, through the cage of bone—but they touched. 薇尔娜再次伸出手,环住她的腰。这一次,两人的左胸贴在了一起。隔着衣料,隔着鳞片,隔着骨头的囚笼——但贴着了。 Sirius laid her hand between them. No space left. 瑟瑞丝把手按在两人胸口之间。没有缝隙了。 "…They're touching," she said, very softly, as if testing something fragile. “……贴到了。”她轻声说,仿佛在确认某样易碎的东西。 "Mm." “嗯。” "What you said before. Was it true?" “你刚才说的那些,是真的吗?” "Which part?" “哪一句?” "That you need to be beside me." “你需要待在我旁边。” Verna looked at her. 薇尔娜看着她。 "Every word," she said. “每一句都是。” Sirius said nothing. She slid her hand from between them, looped her arms around Verna's neck, and buried her face back into her shoulder. 瑟瑞丝没有再说话。她把手从两人中间抽出来,圈住薇尔娜的脖子,重新把脸埋进她的肩窝。 Beyond the window, the river of stars turned, slow and soundless. 窗外,星河无声地缓慢流转。 A long while later, a muffled voice rose from the hollow of her shoulder: 很久之后,闷闷的声音从肩窝里传出来: "…You're not a robot." “……你不是机器人。” "Mm." “嗯。” "And you're not allowed to be my savior." “你也不许当我的拯救者。” "Alright." “好。” "You just stay beside me." “你就在旁边就好。” Verna smiled, faint and soft. 薇尔娜轻轻笑了。 "Alright." “好。” The moonlight lay over their pressed-together chests. One heartbeat, then another—two rhythms, out of step, yet beating through the same thin cloth. 月光照着两人贴在一起的胸口。一下心跳,又一下心跳——两种节奏,并不合拍,却隔着同一层薄薄的衣料跳动着。 —Like those nights when you finally stop asking why someone is good to you, and just let yourself be held. ——就像那些终于不再追问“你为何对我好”的夜晚,只是允许自己被接住。